


Thursday nights

by sphynx_and_roses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Face Slapping, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Post-War, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 10:42:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20637863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphynx_and_roses/pseuds/sphynx_and_roses
Summary: Hermione is leading a double life through letters in her owlpost.Is she actually going to a yoga class or is she really spending her Thursday nights  drinking whiskey and exploring Lucius Malfoy?mostly a smut fic with a hint of unresolved feelings and plot





	Thursday nights

[[disclaimer:  
The harry potter universe and its characters do not belong to me in the slightest, they are J.K.ROWLINGS creations. This is all pure fanfiction, fuelled by my imagination and desires.  
Enjoy.]]

It's always an early day at the Ministry for her on Thursdays, and she feels thankful for it.  
So she sends off two owls, one to confirm arrangements for the evening ahead, the other is to Ron to let him know that she'll be late and that her and the ladies from her department will probably get some dinner after their yoga class together.  
She doesn't think twice about the latter, she knows he'd only microwave something for her or forget entirely.  
He never really asks her about her evenings anyway.

It's 4pm by the time she's packed up her paperwork for the day and then she's out of her office and giving friendly nods to the other employees that pass her by in the corridor.  
Soon she's stepping into the lift and being hurtled through time and space and pops up in a telephone box on the other side of the street.  
It's already dark outside in London, but she's so use to the winter gloom and these days she finds that really it's her favourite time of year.

She's already dressed in her muggle clothes, a long burgundy woolen coat, black jeans, boots and a grey beanie. No one pays her any mind as she walks down the main street and ducks into a cosy little patisserie on the way.  
The small but heavenly looking cakes and pasteries all catch her attention as she inspects them through the glass cabinet and it takes her a while, but finally she sees one that is perfect for the occasion.  
With a friendly wave and a cheery 'thankyou', she leaves with a paper bag in hand as she walks off down the main street again.  
The notice me not charm never fails.  
No muggles ever hear her down that same alley every Thursday night apparating with a deafening crack.

***

It's an odd situation to be in.  
All of it is.  
She stands just outside of the ornate iron gates.  
"It's Hermione Granger" she declares to no one in particular and as though the gates themselves are self aware, they respond by opening inwardly and closing right behind her.  
She walks up the path and thinks back to the other times she's walked through the grounds before; she's only ever seen them covered in snow.  
It's the thought that she has stepped into a world so far removed yet somehow entwined with her own that gives her the shivers.  
The magical world still thrills and frightens her, it's something she feels will never change.  
Her heart flutters at what lies beyond the front door, at the fantasy she is about to step into again.  
But before she can let her mind delve deeper into her thoughts, she arrives at the entrance and is greeted at the door.  
As always, he is most gracious.

***

It's all very civil, Hermione thinks as they sit opposite each other in the sitting room.  
He pours a glass of fire whiskey magically and sends it across the table to her.  
She thanks him and they both take a sip together.  
They exchange light pleasantries for a while and she laughs politely at his banter and scathing observations of wizarding society.  
Sometimes she wonders late at night and marvels over how strange the world really is.  
How it seemed like a life time ago she was being tortured by Bellatrix Le strange in the very room next to this one and that now she is indulging in a glass of fine whiskey with Lucius Malfoy.  
She still feels intimidated by the man sitting across from her,his regal air and ethereal beauty still leaves her slightly breathless.  
There's a lot of complicated feelings she likes to ignore at times like these.  
She also knows that he knows this too, judging by the ever so faint smile playing upon his lips.

Lucius doesn't look a day past 40, his mane of hair as silken and well groomed as ever, his clothes immaculate as she takes in the finer details of his appearence, but there's a subtle weariness about the man as he pours himself another drink and changes the subject airly to a new author he admires.  
It's in his sharp and observant blue eyes, that the tiredness lingers.  
It's in the fine lines around his mouth, the droop of his shoulders, his countenance once so imposing and dominant but now more subdued..

"The chapter on the ethics of ancient charm configurations is simply preposterous and overly convoluted." He drawls taking another sip of whiskey "That fool of an author Arrand can't possibly believe half of that garbage, to dismiss a whole branch of ancient magic over *ethics*" he continues in half jest rolling his eyes for effect.  
Hermione can't help but giggle but refutes his argument anyway.

This is her favourite topic to debate on, authors of the wizarding world.  
She knows these topics are impossible to discuss with her own partner.  
All Ron ever talks about was Quidditch, his job and complaining about a lot of petty things .

However, even with Lucius, she knows what topics not to approach and she knows he is avoiding particular ones too.  
Heavy topics such as the war, feelings and any personal commentary is always left for afterwards.

By her second drink they're both in a heated discussion about French wizarding literature and she is thrilled by his intelligence.  
She admires the way he listens to her points of view even when he disagrees and counters swiftly and respectfully.  
His sharp wit makes her laugh, his seductive and regal smile is flirtatious and she finds it difficult to keep a level headed view on things.  
These conversations have grown on her.  
Lucius, has grown on her.  
He is the intellectual companion she has always longed for.  
But she warns herself not to get too attached, although their's is a long and complicated history, their arrangement does not entail such feelings.

As time slips by and conversation flows with ease, she quirks an eyebrow as the man goes to pour a fourth drink.  
"Drink number four, Lucius?"  
The wizard pauses and and cocks his head to one side, somewhat taken a back.  
"I do believe so that four usually comes after three?...also lower that eyebrow of yours, that's exclusively a Malfoy trait" he jokes but frowns somewhat at how fast the number of drinks have caught up with him.  
Hermione smirks but she says nothing, they stare at each other knowingly for a moment.  
Instead he sighs heavily.  
"Ok, yes I suppose your right, three is entirely enough."  
She notices him stareing at the clock across the room , lost in thought.  
"Are you comfortable with my request? It's difficult to know the tone intended in letters"  
She nods and thinks back to the parchment she had replied to  
"I-I am."  
The blonde gives her a sharp look  
"You're hesitating Hermione. Be blunt with me."  
"Really, I'm fine with it, just I've never been the one to act like that..."  
"If you're uncomfortable we can choose a different activity perhaps?"  
"No Lucius, I want to try, but I don't know if I can give you what you want"  
He smirks and takes another big sip of his drink  
"If you feel uncomfortable, remember our word.  
I think you'll surprise yourself though, I can see the fire in your eyes sometimes when you speak....I give myself to you."  
withdrawing his wand he slides it towards her, stands up and says "Feel free to freshen up or have another drink... 10 minutes perhaps?"  
She nods and simply says "ok".

***

Sometimes it's about her.  
Sometimes it's about him.  
Usually it's straight into sex but tonight it's a very different scene altogether.

As she descends down into the manor dungeons, she prepares herself mentally for a night about him.  
It's always so chilly when she enters and hangs her coat on the wall.  
She walks into the candle lit dungeons, their yellow flames dancing upon the walls.  
She sees a bed in the corner of the dungeon and in a chair, the form of a shirtless man sitting with his back to her.  
Hermione always feels a shiver of fear and excitement course through her, the tension in the room is strong and intoxicating.  
It takes courage to descend those steps.

She walks over slowly in her boots, skinny jeans and a little lacy black bra.  
Behind him, her boots click against the stone ground and she hovers by his ear and whispers  
"Close your eyes Lucius"  
She hears "Yes my lord" in return.

Words that she will never get use to, a title that tells her everything.  
'Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself' he had parroted back to her when they had first discussed these arrangements... and she was still in disbelief he had remembered her saying that from all those many years ago.

Her fingertips run over his bare shoulders and up the sides of his neck causing him to shiver at her touch.  
His neck muscles are tight and goosebumps break out over the flesh as her nails scrape against him lightly.  
She breathes in the scent of his hair and it reminds her of a dewy forest,  
Pine, earth, human.  
He's enchanting in every sense of the word.  
This beautiful and broken man.

In one swift move, she grabs a fistful of hair and yanks it back harshly.  
The whiskey has made things easier for her, no second guessing, just going with the flow of things.  
He hisses as she exposes his neck and licks it gently.  
She can feel his hands searching for her arms and as she withdraws she sees his long lashes parted slightly.  
"Uh uh uh, no peeking now."  
"OBSCURO!"

A blindfolded and now bound Lucius sits stiffly in the chair as Hermione runs her nails down his chest and kisses him deeply from behind.  
She can taste the exquisite whiskey mingled with the intoxicating warmth of the man beneath her.  
His kisses are smooth and velvety, his lips now swollen and pouty as she takes his lower lip between her teeth.  
It's all about contrasts with men like him, or so she's read in trashy muggle novels before.  
Soft/hard.  
Gentle/rough.  
Pleasure/pain.  
A faint moan escapes him as she caresses his chest and rakes her nails down his soft flesh .  
She can feel the long, lash like scars that were once seared into his skin and shudders inwardly at the memory of her own branding.

Her hands wander further down his stomach now and inside her heart is hammering in her chest.  
The waistband of his trousers leaves just enough room for Hermione to slide her fingers under there and delve deeper towards the depths of his sex.  
"Tell me what you want Lucius" She whispers,skimming lightly over the now straining bulge in his pants  
"I-I don't know" he murmers breathlessly.

Suddenly she withdraws her hand and slaps him across the face.  
It's a hollow sound that echoes throughout the dungeon.  
For a moment it surprises even her.  
Was it the thought of her own scars that made her strike?  
He let out a soft sound of desire.  
"Let's try again shall we? tell me what you want Lucius." she says more forcefully this time, rubbing his cheek with compassion within her palm.  
His cheeks are pink and warm from the sting.  
She can see him swallow, his voice thick with lust and hesitation  
"I can't...."  
She strikes him again with the palm of her hand and watches at how the bulge in his pants visibly twitches.  
This time she grasps him roughly by the neck, applying just the right amount of pressure and notices his body yeilding to her, his muscles lax to her touch, his breathing ragged and shallow.

She feels high on adrenaline now as she watches the scene unfold, her heart beating wildly in her chest and desperately hanging on to each and every sign of arousal from him.  
"Lucius Malfoy...I know your tricks" she speaks huskily now "you like pain don't you?"  
He lets his head fall back against the chair.  
"Yes my lord."  
Silently she withdraws her wand and transfigures it into a flogger, striking him across the chest with it experimentally.  
This time he lets out a yelp as his body jerks forward in its seat.  
A sheen of sweat breaks out across his skin.  
"It's interesting to see how you get off on pain..."  
Another lash to the chest  
"... I can see your pulse racing from here..."  
A softer strike this time  
A low groan  
"...Why do you enjoy reveling in the sensation of pain so much Lucius?"  
She slaps him hard and watches his blonde hair fall in slow motion around his face like a veil.  
He lets out a deep, soft groan.  
She leans down and cups his bulge causing the wizard to let out a delicious moan.  
"Because I deserv-"  
She silences him by running a finger over his lip and says"ssshhhhh".

Deep down she knows exactly why he's like this, why this ex death eater shivering before her truely gets off on it all.  
It's a topic they tip toe around.  
But she sees it in the way he craves her cruelty, the words he wants her to use, as though addressing her as his Lord will erase or replace the old nightmares with new pleasures.  
Once the torturer, now the tortured...except this form of torture is fueled by a blurry mix of self loathing and hedonistic desire.

"Would you like to touch me lucius? "  
She can feel him trembling beneath her again as she straddles his lap.  
"y-yes my lord."  
His chest is covered in cold sweat, his breath coming out in short, rough pants.  
"I should make you beg for my touch." she whispers, pressing her breasts against his chest and tugging sharply upon his hair.  
Hermione almost swoons at the ragged sound that escapes him and feels so very turned on.  
"Pathetic! I think secretly you love submitting yourself to me..."she peers at him through her heavy lidded gaze and closes her eyes when she hears his reply  
"only to you my lord..."

His whole body jerks in his chair as she grates her teeth down the side of his tender neck.  
"..fuck..."  
He hisses incoherent words as she twists his hair tighter in her fist.  
"Speak up Lucius" she grasps his throat again as if to illustrate her point and gently squeezes a little.  
A moan of pleasure falls from his parted lips now.

She feels separated from herself as she watches him struggle and go lax within her grasp.  
It brings back a flood of emotions, the anger, the pain, the sadness that his kind caused.  
"Pureblood scum" she hisses, tightening her grip.  
"you worthless man" his hair is yanked again, he's panting roughly now.  
She groans too as she rubs up against his bare chest.  
"I'm going to break you"...she breathes against his ear  
His whole body has gone slack.  
Hermione feeling her heart fluttering, her mind buzzing with want, need.  
These words are his not hers, they have no meaning in this current moment, they only serve to heighten the sexual tension between them.  
"Hermione.." Lucius mouths  
But shes running her tongue up the side of his neck as he shivers  
"I-I, ahh"  
"Yes...lucius?" she replies  
"Owlpost"

For a moment she panics at the use of their safe word and hastily spells the blindfold and binding charms away.  
His eyes look dilated and unfocused.  
"Woah, Lucius, hey look at me!"  
He holds up a shaky hand.  
"Just euphoric,dizzy...drunk" he mumbles  
"we can stop-" but lucius cuts her off.  
He leans in to the shell of her ear, his hot breath caressing her ear with his soft low voice  
"No stopping, just order me to get on that damn bed and make me pleasure you."

***

Everything is intense and passionate.  
Give and take.  
It's a sexual experience she's never quite felt before.  
The power dynamic, the shift of giver and receiver, both intermingling with each other.

"Look " she says while slowly easing her bra over her breasts and removing it all together.  
His expression is one of intense admiration and desire, his eyes darkening now, his breathing shallow as he stares at her naked figure.  
"May I touch you?"

Her mind swims and buzzes with an overriding feeling of pure ecstasy.  
She cannot think at all, her brain no longer can process thoughts with any clarity.  
The words of her cocky demands are faint now, drowned out by his presence.

He makes her body sing, her nerves are aflame with need and want.  
Shes gasping as the wizard runs his tongue up her stomach and licks her nipple slowly.  
Her back arches instinctively to his touch and whimpers as he takes her breasts one at a time and sucks and bites and licks them till she feels as though her body is squirming and submitting to his every move.  
She barely registers the smug smirk that tugs at his mouth or hears the words he whispers as his fingers brush against her inner thigh.  
"Do I please you my lord?"  
Her skin tingles delightfully as they trace circles near her sex.  
She moans and closes her eyes.

She can feel his fingers brush lightly against her entrance now and her body bucks against him.  
"L-Lucius....please..." she whines  
But he leans over her , pushing her into the mattress, the smell of hot whiskey faintly floods her senses.  
"Is this what you desire my lord?" his voice husky and low as he sinks a finger into her.  
"Ahhh" she pants, bringing her hands up to his hair and tangling her fingers into his silken mane.

He fingers her for a while and she almost loses it when he goes down on her.  
The sensations are overwhelming, the vision of his blonde hair pooling over her bare legs makes it difficult to breathe.  
She knows deep down he's flicked an irreversible switch.  
One of insatiable lust and desire.  
There is a small part of her that fears him still, she can feel it within her , but as she glances down at his head between her legs there's a strength in her that she's rebuilding.

She forces his head down again and holds it there as his sweet admiration continues.  
Everything just melts away.  
And when he gets up for some air, she crawls into his lap and sucks him off enthusiastically until he is almost the quivering mess that she was.

"Lucius...Can we have sex now please?"  
His face is flushed and sweaty, his gaze spells danger but the gentle stroking of her hand says otherwise.  
"Hmm how the tables have turned I see..." his words barely audible, laced with desire.  
"And what kind of sex is that my lord? I aim to please"  
"The ruthless kind."  
She sees the devilish curve of his lips  
"As you wish" he whispers

Breathy whines and short grunts fill the chilly dungeon.  
She's at his mercy now, his fingers gripping the curve of her arse as he sinks slower and deeper into her.  
Hermione doesn't notice how the sheet is bunched up awkwardly beneath her, instead all she can register is the sting of his fingernails digging into her flesh and the wisps of silken hair that swish up and down along her spine.  
She can't control the moans that escape her, and his moans seem to be inflaming her senses more so.  
She yelps as this time he roughly dives back deeper into her.  
He pulls her body back against his chest as he thrusts into her roughly, pinching her nipple.  
It's a heady mixture of pleasure and pain only he can draw out of her.

"Fuck...you are delicious.." he pants as he slams into her again and she bucks wildly within his arms.  
She can feel his hands cupping her breasts lightly as they jiggle up and down upon them.  
Incomprehensible words fall from his lips, but Hermione is in too much of a daze to hear it.

He quickens the pace now and pushes her back down on all fours, this time crushing her into the mattress underneath him while Lucius thrusts into her over and over.  
Her senses are alive, no thoughts, just reactions.  
She can feel his long fingers in her mouth and she automatically licks them.  
" ahhhhh I'm so close...." she hears his desperate words in her ear.  
"me too" she gasps  
A warm hand slips underneath her hips and she squeals as those fingers find her clit.  
It's too much for her to handle.  
"let go lovely, allow me."  
She hears him next to her ear as he grinds deeply into her.  
Exquisite pain and pleasure mingle together.  
"That's it, good girl"  
Her legs quiver, her mind begins to unravel.  
She begins to see white as he whispers words of sweetness and encouragement by her ear.  
"Come for me my Hermione" he groans softly and she does.

***

There should have been a moment of awkwardness between them.  
But she finds that he very gently and quietly, without saying a word, curls up against her chest and listens to her heartbeat.  
It makes her wonder when was the last person, aside from herself, to hold him in such a way.  
This was not an act they had agreed upon.  
But Hermione knows not to speak of it.  
There's something tender in the way his hand rests up against her belly and how her lets her be the strong one for a while.  
She strokes his hair soothingly and knows it's wrong that she wishes she could do this always.  
It surprises her that there is so much complexity within the blonde.

After the buzz of sex wears off ,they slip under the covers and lay side by side, fingers entwined together.  
These are the moments of clarity where Hermione feels the weight of her decisions as she allows herself to sift through memories that lead her to this point.  
She knows that their meetings are purely for the sake of shaking off the emotional baggage that have bogged them down since the war; to allow Hermione a space to heal and vent and experiment if need be and for Lucius to be vunlerable, to be forgiven, to seek warmth in another human's touch.  
But she realises something tender has grow from it, something that makes her feel loved and understood.  
They both so desperately-  
"I can see you thinking, your nose wrinkles when you think" Lucius interjects suddenly  
Sighing, she gazes up at the older man and meets his gaze  
"I have to leave in a few minutes Lucius, or Ron might get suspicious. It's getting late."  
"Ah, that is quite alright Ms Granger, your company is always most welcome."  
"...Lucius, are you alright? It doesn't bother you does it? Me being with Ron...you're suddenly using formalities with me"  
Quirking an eyebrow he leans over and plants a kiss on her forehead  
"Old habits I'm afraid! Of course I'm alright...I'm a Malfoy, we have a tendancy to be alright even when we're not. Weasley is of no concern to me or any wizards you choose outside of these walls. No, aside from my own selfish reasons in our arrangement, I suppose I just feel the weight of my own personal responsibility towards  
you. " he replied with a small tired smile.

Propping herself up on one elbow she frowns a little and pulled up the blankets a bit higher.  
"It was war time... we were all very different people back then and I've let go of a lot since those days.  
You need to do the same too.  
Besides....you know I don't mean those words you ask of me to say..." she says carefully, observing the way he can't quite meet her eyes again.  
"Yes, well even if deep down you do or don't think them, I know I deserve them, it really is that simple...I-I still have nightmares, some nights I can barely sleep, not that you should pity me in the slightest...  
I want to do better."  
She nodded slightly and sighed sadly.  
"You are, we all are. It will just take time. Sometimes I feel really alone with it all you know? No one wants to talk about the things that have happened, its all swept under the rug. Ron never talks, he just ignores everything and everyone, drinking lager every night in front of the tv. It's important to grieve, I still do in my dreams, but I like to think things are getting better...for all of us."  
He leans in to kiss her, sweetly and slowly and she knows he's so very lonely too.  
"I'm so sorry" he whispers,stroking her cheek,she can feel the sadness and remorse radiating through them both.  
His eyes are full of sorrow.  
She places her hand on his marked forearm.  
"I'm sorry too..."

***

It's late when she arrives by floo back into the lounge room of her home.  
The sudden noise wakes Ron from the spot on the couch, his eyes wide with surprise.  
"Blimey Hermione! Whats's the time? I guess I should actually go to bed soon, oh well, must have dropped off for a bit. Did you have a fun night?"  
A pang of guilt tugs at her insides ,the lingering scent of pine hangs in wisps around her hair.  
"Yes, I would say so Ron., it was a nice night out with the girls-"  
But she could tell he wasn't listening as he muttered "hey thats great, maybe I can still catch that show about myths and blowing things up...thats wonderful though Hermione, you don't seem as stressed out the past few weeks ...oh yeah, I left you dinner in the kitchen."

She was met with a defrosting pasty and a few pies sitting in their garish box by the sink.  
Could she feel any more empty?

Later she's in the shower with the door locked, letting the hot water wash away all her guilt.  
Sometimes she finds herself crying and weeping silently, other times she touches herself, retracing the paths where Lucius Malfoy had been.  
She admits to herself that there's a lot she still hasn't processed, a lot of secrets and bad memories she holds deep down within her.  
She finds herself rubbing the Mudblood scar on her arm as though the water will wash away those painful sentiments, but recalls the concern in Lucius's voice instead.

It's a long time before she gets out of the shower and its 1.30am now.  
She checks on Ron and hes snoring loudly, a beer bottle resting beside him on the couch and she knows he wont be joining her in bed tonight.  
Instead she wraps a dressing gown tightly around her and heads for her room.  
Nights such as these feel less lonely when she puts her quill to parchment and sends her words off into the darkness.  
It's a short letter, a follow up.  
She likes to think its to check up on him and see how he's feeling after sobering up, but really she knows she feels like someone out there actually hears her.  
Not long after, she sees the silhouette of her owl at the window and before she knows it . she's back in bed reading her reply by wand light.

"To my Dearest Ms Granger"  
it reads in that familiar slanted cursive

"This may not be the wisest of messages to send at 2am in the house you share with another, but I'm sure you are as cautious and as vigilant as always.  
I may or may not have continued drinking after you left.  
Yes, feel free to judge me, but you should know I'm only indulging in the finest whiskey of course.  
Self loathing and cheap swill is most unbecoming to anyone with good taste and refinement - be sure to make a note of that.

On a serious note though.  
I do not deserve to be treated with any type of warmth or compassion, only the sting of your hand and the cruel words I have chosen for you to deliver to me are the things I need currently.

I still feel numb.  
I have lost almost everything I ever took for granted, but I am most appreciative of the kindness or at the very least, the facade of kindness you show towards me.  
Self loathing will always prevail, it's in my blood I'm afraid, but perhaps maybe one day it will fade away like all the other scars.  
You, however, have the world at your feet, the brightest witch of your age and forever you will be!  
You are a flame to many, your passion for the world and helping others, yes even house elves I suppose- is always contagious.  
Do not let Weasley or any wizard for that matter, make you feel otherwise.  
I sincerely hope if you require my services in any capacity I am only an owl away.

All that aside, please make sure to read Arthur K. Dragonoff's volume on Ancient Civillisations, it will be the topic of discussion for next time and I'm sure you will be as intrigued and as outraged as I am.  
I could barely contain myself as I read his chapter on the Valor Clan movement, REALLY THE IMPERTINANCE OF IT ALL!  
The man shouldn't even be allowed to call himself a wizard it is that preposterous!  
However, feel free to form your own opinion, I eagerly await it.

You are never alone.

Until next time,

Your friend,  
Lucius Malfoy."

She let those words wash through her, the sound of his voice in her mind lull her into a state of calmness.  
Hermione read the letter once more to herself, drinking in his words, examining their meanings before noticing a small pto at the bottom of the page,  
What was written on the back made her smile, her eyes brimming with tears.

"P.S: I believe you left a small paper bag near the floo, for me?  
I must thankyou immensely for the key lime tarts...and from a muggle bakery I believe?  
Extraordinary!  
You must bring more next time, take my galleons if you need.  
They are indeed my favorite and are as sweet as the woman who left them behind."

She leaned over and placed the letter on top of all the others in a charmed box she kept stashed in her underwear drawer and fell into a deep sleep with the lingering sound of Lucius Malfoy's voice, whispering words of lust and strength in her heart.


End file.
